Sunday, December 27, 2009

It was rather frustrating to see the snow melt away over the past couple of days, not because I miss it that much, but because I am not an adept of this tease-me type of weather. A week of snow, a week without snow, and so on. It is difficult to enjoy it either way. Nonetheless, after a long hiatus from the bike, Ben suggested we go for an early afternoon ride. The sun was out and the roads were clear, so we thought initially, and the temperature was hospitable. What a great idea!

Ben on White Church

Without a route in mind we set off at about 1:30pm from my place on East Hill towards Brooktondale. My only request was to stop at the local market on the way back. Ben agreed. None of us was in the mood for great adventures or strenuous efforts. The idea was to keep it simple. We decided to follow White Church and then Coddington to 96B and continue on an inverted Honeypot ride. But once we got to 96B we both found it best to cut the ride a bit shorter, taking Prospect Valley towards Shindagin Hollow.

Geese and cows on Prospect Valley Rd

All was well and we were moving leisurely along, interrupted occasionally by my request to take a picture here and there. We reached Shindagin Hollow and suddenly ahead lay the problem. The road was covered with snow and ice. Neither had studded tires, at least not on the bikes we were riding. After a brief pause we plowed along in the snow, at times walking at times riding. Eventually it became very icy and the inevitable happened. I went down with a thump. The bike slid underneath me and I fell butt first on the ice. In a jiffy I was back on my feet. We continued.

Curious horses

However amusing it was, we were making little progress and there were still a few miles to go. The road did not get better so we decided to turn around. This time Ben led the way and again the inevitable occurred. Ben went down with a thump, followed by another thump. The latter one was I. None of us was injured and we were back on our feet, this time more cautiously.

My short term memory does not seem to function well because once I found a nice icy stretch I decided to try to drift a bit while holding my bike. This was fun! Until I lost balance and found myself trying to get it back in vain. I was well beyond stability. It is then when both my feet went straight into the air. Instead of letting go of my beloved bike I decided to grab it. It too went in the air with me. Now I had a problem. There was not much I could do other than hope for the best. My bike and I entangled fell together with a large thump. This time it hurt. Ben had front row seats to this debacle and could give a better account. In the end I found myself with a mighty bruise on my right arm and a bent rear fender on my bike. After a bit of pulling and twisting my wheel was free to rotate. But my tire was hissing. Great. A flat.

Snow and ice were difficult to deal with

The decision was made to move onto firmer, i.e., non-icy ground. It is then when Ben realized that he too had a flat. Both rear flats. Deep inside I felt misfortune was handed evenly. It was cold and we hoped that our larger tires could keep us going maybe out to Brooktondale, where we could fix our flats in the comfort of a heated space. That did not happen. We did stop once to inflate our tires a bit. Along the climb on Brailey Hill I was riding my rim. Out of the saddle I went to remove the load off the back of my bike. Ben convinced me it was better to stop. He too wanted to fix his flat.

My flat was caused by a thorn, which I successfully removed. Ben's originated from some sort of metal wire. Altogether the fix took a bit long, mainly because Ben's spare tube was that of a mountain bike, not the best fit for his rim. It all worked out and we climbed aggressively, now on a sticky and muddy road, with thoughts of smooth pavement. My feet were freezing. How I regretted that moment when I decided to leave my shoe covers home. But the end was near.

The gray clouds with which our ride began were now gone and in their place stood a wonderful palette of sunset colors. We were on Central Chapel Rd, on our way back to Ithaca via Brooktondale. It was getting late, and the market was already closed. I ended the ride longing for a treat from the market, but happy to have ridden, bruise, flat and all.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Last year I racked up more than 1,000 winter miles between November and Februrary. I had a goal for June, the Shenandoah 1200K. Although I am signed up this year for the 1001 Miglia Italia in August, I didn't feel pressed to accumulate those winter miles. And there is also the fact that now I have a really nice steel bike that I do not want expose to all the salt thrown on the roads. My desire was to stay fit, but I hate trainers. I bought one last year and used it twice. Now a friend has it. Then I had the idea to start running.

I always enjoyed running, but never took it too seriously. When I did, in my teens, I got really fast and skinny, but less attractive to girls. At that point in my life girls were a lot more important to me. So I started going to the gym and stuck with soccer until 2007 when I tore my ACL. That brought me to cycling.

Late Fall I bought a pair of nice running shoes and started running 2-3 times a week, anywhere between 6-10 miles at a time. Most of these runs were with my friend Ben, who is an exceptional cyclist. What became clear to me is that his dominance in cycling did not translate directly to running. Maybe I could be actually decent at this. A few days ago while running down the hill to Ithaca I suddenly thought of the lake. Why not run around it? Well, for starters that's about 90 miles. Secondly, it's winter. I put the idea in my head to run around lake Cayuga on Dec 31st. A caring soul brought me to my senses and suggested I go for a 30 mile run to test my legs. During the week I planned the run, a map of which can be found here. It turned out to be about 42 miles.

I went to bed last night a bit nervous. It looked like the temperature for the beginning of the run would be around 16F. That was a bit too cold. I managed to wake up at 5am for an early breakfast. I went back to sleep and woke up around 7:30am and left the door at precisely 8am. Already during the first 3 miles I started to feel my calves a bit. This was not going very well.

At the 3 mile mark I met up with a friend, John Dennis, who ran with me for about 3 miles. It was very nice. We both chatted a bit and time went by quickly. I was to meet another friend at the 6 mile mark, but I messed up my predicted arrival time, so we missed each other. I just kept on going. Now solo.

At the 3 mile mark

I immediately noticed that distances were a lot harder to deal with mentally while running when compared to biking. On a bike, if you see the road go on for a few miles, you tend not to worry too much about it because you know it will take you just a few minutes to get there. On a pair of legs it takes a lot longer. I tried to keep my eyes on the horizon, concentrating on my breathing and just the emptiness in my head. At one point I saw a huge flock of geese hovering around a field. It was beautiful to watch them. They settled and as I ran by they all took off and resumed their coordinated movement in the air. Quite something.

My next cue would be on Lake Ridge Rd. This road took ages to show up. And when it did it seemed much longer than I had anticipated. At this point I was suffering in a pretty brutal headwind. My legs started to hurt. Mainly my feet. Oh boy, I'm not even half way there. I would see a stop sign and think, this must be it. It wasn't. Finally my cue did show up. I had made it to the halfway mark. It was time to eat.

I stopped at a diner and ordered 3 eggs over & easy with two slices of wheat toast and a chocolate milk. That costed $3.24. I couldn't believe the receipt. Well, I guess running 21 miles for that kind of deal is almost worth it. While I waited for my order I let John know about my whereabouts and asked him for the time: 11:11am. Wow! I really didn't expect to be there before noon. I stayed at the diner for a little over 30min. My legs were pretty stiff at this point. I was encouraged by my time and got ready to go.

The first miles out of the diner were probably my fastest. I didn't have a watch and the cell phone I borrowed was tucked and not easily accessible. I knew this burst of speed would take its toll later on. But I was happy and happy people run faster. It took a while for the pain to settle in once again. My feet were hurting and now my hips were too.

I slowed down a bit but didn't stop or walk at all. I knew if I did I would be tempted to just walk or give up. This is where the determination part really started to become important. I was following the numbers on the mailboxes. 1242... 1220... 1190.. 1100... 1034... 968... 848... 790... 642. This last number I remembered on my way out. One by one, the visual landmarks I had noticed earlier started to appear. This was encouraging. Then I saw a sign. Ithaca 7 miles. At this point I was well beyond my longest run prior, just over 10 miles. Those 7 miles would be the hardest.

My enthusiasm plummeted after a long uphill stretch just before my next cue. Ithaca 6 miles. Oh no, that was just 1 mile. It felt like at least 2. There must be something wrong with these signs, I thought to myself. Oh well.. On my way out I carried a water bottle mostly in my right hand. Every time I tried to switch it to my left hand it would reappear in my right hand, almost like magic. My right arm was tired from carrying that water bottle so I decided to stash it in my rear jersey pocket. I was wearing a winter cycling jacket. For a while the bouncing of the water bottle on my back bothered me, but I must have adjusted my stride because it subsided after some time. Either that or I got used to it. But now I was thirsty, very thirsty. So I started to walk for a bit while I chugged on my water bottle as I ate a Lärabar, which I highly recommend. I had 6 of them with me and I only ate one. I started to run again... ouch. That wasn't easy.

I decided to give John a phone call. I was close to his house. He informed me it was 2:10pm. What? That tailwind must have helped on the way back, although I did feel like my butt was frozen several times. It was still about 2 miles to John's house. Soon I saw him on his bike coming towards me. We both greeted each other and he took a picture of me. I ran with him alongside for just a few hundred feet and decided to stop. This was hurting too much. I began to walk and he joined me for about 2 miles. We chatted about many things and it took my mind off the cold and the pain I was feeling. I continued to walk home, now at even a slower pace. At 3:50pm I walked into my house. 7h50min of total time, including the diner stop and the 3 mile walk at the end. I was not exhausted. I actually felt great in terms of cardio fitness. I guess the 8,000+ miles this year on the bike really helped me with that. The feet and hips were another story. They hurt.

39 miles in

I was able to muster a smile

90 miles around Cayuga Lake? I don't think I'm quite ready for that. But I feel good and happy about the accomplishment. The time wasn't too shabby either. Foremost I was happy to finish uninjured. I celebrated with two glasses of maple milk. Delicious.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Since I started cycling a little over a year ago, I have always enamored the idea of climbing a real mountain. Earlier this year I learned about a ride in Vermont called the Six Gap ride, a challenging 132 mile loop over six mountain passes. Columbus Day weekend coinciding with the peak in fall colors seemed to be the perfect occasion to celebrate the epilogue of a wonderful cycling season. In addition, I had the great company of my friends Ben and Olivia for the weekend, along with several members of our local cycling club, the FLCC. I left Vermont longing for more.Six Gap RideEverything was fairly organized for our departure at 2:30pm from Ithaca. I got delayed because of a research meeting, but made good time getting out of the house, and managed to arrive at Ben's by 2:15pm. Ben had already disassembled his tandem for the trip. After loading the bike and bags we picked up Olivia on the Cornell campus. I was quite excited about this trip. The promise of a challenging ride with great company was something to look forward to. Perhaps the only deterrent could be the weather, which had not been very pleasant during the first two weeks of October.

Our drive to Vermont went without incident, except for a few missed turns along the way. I would rather miss some turns than have to listen to the annoying GPS voice. We made a dinner stop at the Blue Ben Diner in Bennington. The food was good and the diner quite charming. By the time we drove into Vermont it was already dark. It turns out I would see Vermont for the first time only after beginning the Six Gap ride.

Our destination was the town of Ludlow, at the base of Okemo mountain, a popular ski destination. There we would be staying with other FLCC-ers at the Trojan Horse Lodge. Ben, Olivia and I arrived shortly before 10pm I believe. We were greeted by Randy and Sam. Other FLCCers already present were Eileen and Brenda with her son Jordan. Our 132 mile ride required and early start if we had any hope of finishing in daylight. I wanted to get a decent amount of sleep before the ride, so I made sure to organize everything for the next day before chatting with others at the hostel. Unfortunately there was no internet at the hostel, but Olivia let me use her iPhone, so I was able to send out an e-mail to Patrick, a rider from Burlington that would join us for part of the ride and another to Rob, an FLCC-er that also would ride with his friend Jesse. Sam completed the list.

It was past 11pm when I managed to get in bed, after briefly speaking with Andrejs, who had arrived with his wife Diana. Andrejs was the one who suggested I stay with the FLCC touring group in Ludlow for the weekend, instead of driving out of Amherst, MA, as I had originally planned. For one, instead of driving 2h+ to the ride start in Rochester, VT, I would drive less than an hour. Furthermore, we would be able to spend some time with the other cyclists in the evening.

I woke up rather reluctantly to the alarm clock at 5am. We had to leave by 6am at the latest if we were to start at 7am. The morning was wet and cold. Drizzle was predicted for most of the morning and it would clear up during the afternoon. The good thing about driving to a ride far away is that a no-ride is not an option. I had fenders and I was really happy about that. Actually, it is difficult for me to conceive of riding without fenders in foul weather since I started using them.

The drive to Rochester was in the dark. Only once we got there did I finally get a glimpse of Vermont. After meeting up with Rob and Jesse we began our ride. First in line was Brandon Gap. It was long, but the slope was gentle. I was the first over the summit and immediately went down the other side. I must say that I like to descend more than I like to climb. The first couple of curves required full attention, but I managed to go through them without braking. Close to the bottom I slowed down to check a side road as Ben and Olivia zipped by me on the tandem. I chased and we stopped at a little store. A few minutes went by and none of the other riders showed up. I began to worry, so I decided to backtrack. I didn't get far before I saw everyone coming down the mountain. Luckily it was only a flat.

The terrain from the bottom of Brandon Gap to Middlebury Gap was mostly flat, a slight downhill I would say. We rode past Lake Dunmore on a particularly beautiful stretch of the ride. The foliage was exuberant and few cars were on the road. It was still rather cold, however. This slight inconvenience would be taken care of by the next climb.

Middlebury Gap began with a initial steep section. Sam stopped to shed some layers of clothing. The rest of us continued. Rob and I rode off the front and leap-frogged each other a few times. The climb was very long. It did level out, offering much welcomed respite. The road ran alongside a stream for most of the way up. The pleasant sound of water also meant that the summit had not been reached. The road suddenly became steep once again. Rob reached the summit and I followed shortly after. I could feel my heart beating hard. Two gaps had been conquered and four more awaited us. A few minutes later we were joined by Jesse, Sam, Ben and Olivia. The wind was blowing quite strongly on the summit. Rob was shivering. He had only brought a vest and was not even wearing tights. I offered him a wind shell jacket I carried in my Carradice Barley saddlebag, the first of many offers. He refused. As I pushed my bike towards the downhill I exclaimed "Now is time for the real fun." My Grand Bois "Cerf" tires are excellent at cornering, and I was able to comfortably let the bike go as fast as gravity allows.

We had reached the town of Hancock. There we decided to stop. I could not let pass the opportunity for a sit-down meal at the "Old Hanckock Hotel," where I enjoyed a ham and cheese sandwich along with a glass of Coca-cola. Ben was a bit skeptic of my choice for a sit-down meal, but he did not resist the temptation and ordered chili that he and Olivia shared. During lunch we heard a bit of NPR. On the way out Ben grabbed a muffin. He has been speaking wonders of that muffin ever since. Sam, Jesse and Rob opted for coffee and energy bars at the country store on the other side of the road. We were on our way to the dreaded Lincoln Gap.

The approach to Lincoln Gap road was that of a slight incline. The nature surrounding the roads was exuberant. A real treat to the senses. Patrick had planned to join us for Lincoln Gap, but I had not seen him. Just as we turned off VT100 onto Lincoln Gap Rd I saw Patrick driving his car in the opposite direction. He told us to move on that he would catch up. I had read about a quarter mile section at 25% grade. I joked with Ben, "Where is this grade? Ha ha!" In retrospect I probably should not have said that. Rob, Jesse and I rode ahead for a while. The road switched to dirt for a bit and then became paved once again. Then it became steep, very steep. I thought that a quarter mile was manageable and pushed harder than I should have. I believe I didn't get the grade quite right. The 25% grade section had not yet begun and my legs were shot. This was no good. I didn't have a low enough gear to spin and my legs didn't have the punch to grind. What to do? I considered giving up, but then I started doing switchbacks. This alleviated the grade a bit, but even then I could barely manage to continue. I needed rest, but I could not stop! In order to give my legs a little bit of a break I started doing circles. I would climb a bit, then ride perpendicular to the road, go down a bit and then turn around. This gave my legs enough rest to keep on going. Every glance up the road confirmed the climb would not be over soon. First Rob, then Patrick, and Sam passed me towards the top of the climb. Finally Ben, Olivia and Jesse also passed me. Then, all of a sudden it was over. This certainly was the closest I have come to giving up on a climb. I had started the climb too quickly and drained my reserves too early. In the end I made it, and now was time to go down. What an awesome descent! The beginning was very steep with many tight curves on dirt. I demanded a lot from my brakes and they performed superbly. Along the way I stopped for a few pictures. Ben and Olivia were the first to join me. Once the rest of the group caught up we continued our ride towards the Appalachian Gap, finish line of the Green Mountain Stage Race.

At this time the clouds had moved elsewhere. The sun was shining in a blue sky. It still was cold at about 2pm and we had three gaps to climb. It would be difficult to finish the ride in daylight, but we had lights, so I was not too worried. We decided to keep stops to a minimum. Our next stop was just pass Baby App Gap, at a country store. There I bought some water, Gatorade and maple sugar. About a mile after we left the store Patrick got a flat. He urged us to continue. After his showing on Lincoln Gap, I was not worried at all. App Gap is a great climb. Only towards the end does it get uncomfortably steep. Even then, you are able to see the summit, so there is no deceit. Best of all, along the way the markings from the Green Mountain Stage Race were still there, so you knew how far you were from the top. I didn't resist and had to lift my arms as in a victory salute as I crossed the finish line, i.e., reached the summit. Rob followed and then Patrick, Jesse, Ben and Olivia joined us. The view from the summit was quite spectacular and well worth the effort to get there. Almost as spectacular was the ensuing descent. Tons of fun.

The day was growing old and it was quite clear we would either have to ride in the dark or cut the ride short. We opted for the former. After a brief stop at a convenience store we made way towards Warren, on the foot of the Roxbury Gap climb, fifth on the list. In Warren Patrick wished us luck and drove back to Burlington. Unlike the previous gaps, Roxbury had little to no traffic. On this ride there were no easy climbs. Roxbury had a sustained grade up to the top, with a little kick at the end. This time there were no markings to indicate the summit. Not that they were really necessary. A wicked descent was visible from the summit. The sun was now low on the horizon, illuminating the valley below. As had been customary, we regrouped at the summit and took a quick break. I had been drinking chocolate milk on almost every summit. A great treat. The tandem flew down the mountain and I followed as close as I could. At the bottom we had just one gap left. It was getting dark.

We were able to reach the town of Randolph, close to the beginning of the last of the gaps, Rochester Gap, still in twilight. There we refilled our water bottles and had a bit of food. I put on some reflective gear and a light on my helmet, in addition to my dynamo powered headlight. Rob finally took up my offer on the jacket. He was shivering and the jacket would help him stay warm. Unfortunately we would not be able to enjoy the view from Rochester Gap, so there is not much to say about that. On the other hand, there is some to say about the climb. It is long! Not terribly steep. In honesty, after Lincoln Gap, the other gaps are not as hard.

We did it! All of us were pretty happy at the end of the ride, and tired, and hungry. But we had all climbed the gaps, no one had walked, although I came close. In Rochester we took celebration pictures and parted ways. Ben, Olivia and I arrived in Ludlow just in time for some soup. We spoke with others at the hostel and then went for a stroll in Ludlow. The soup was great, but we needed more food. A local indicated a bar that served food until late. We shared a veggie pizza and cajun fries. Not a crumb was left.

Dirt Road RideThe next day Ben, Olivia and I took it easy. We allowed ourselves to enjoy a good night of sleep. Late in the morning we drove to Quechee for the Annual Ibex tent sale. Ibex sells wool clothing, including cycling jerseys, bibs, shorts and other items. We made great purchases and were eager to ride in our new clothes. The owner of the bike shop in Ludlow, Mountain Cycology, really took the time to talk to us. Ben and him discussed tandems extensively. We then asked for some ride tips. Specifically, we were interested in a dirt road ride. He suggested a 30+ mile loop with a climb into the Coolidge State Forest. With a map in hands we stopped at the local bagel place for lunch before we began our ride a little late, at about 3:40pm. It turns out our timing was perfect. After a tough climb on dirt, we were rewarded with a view of mountain tops everywhere. The foliage was beautiful and the sun low on the horizon made for great pictures. I savored every moment. A sequence of fast descents brought us back to Ludlow just in time for Eileen's delicious lasagna. Dinner was complemented by a visit to the local ice cream shop.

The next day we drove back to Ithaca. The weekend was wonderful, but I wished it had lasted longer. I will return to Vermont, I am sure.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Today I was signed up for one of my favorite centuries, the Five Lakes and a Steak starting from Watkins Glen. Since I had already rode this century a few times, the forecast of rain made me change my plans. If it was going to rain, I might was well get really dirty as opposed to just a bit dirty. Sometime Saturday afternoon I decided to give cyclocross a try and sign up for Buck Hill Cyclocross. I didn't have the right bike, nor the right tires. But I like getting dirty, and mud was promised, so the fun factor was guaranteed.Ben Kraft and I carpooled to Mecklenburg, arriving at about 9am. I had some hope of competing in the masters category, since after all I am 31 and according to page 5 of the UCI rulebook I am eligible for that category. Not that I was seeking an advantage, but I knew several masters such as Ernie Bayles, Glenn Swan, Jack Rueckheim, Bill Erickson, Mark Shenstone, Bob Nunnink and Wayne Gottlieb. So I thought it would be fun to race with them. In addition, I could also try to race twice, since the open men's category had a later start. However, I guess I don't have enough gray hair or I'm not bald enough, so I was denied entry. The positive side is that I was be able to cheer for all of those guys, and I did!

At the sound of cowbells the masters came and went like a stampede. Since the start was very close to a triple barrier followed by lots of tight turns, things got jammed up a bit on the first lap. On the second lap the first positions were defined and pretty much remained that way to the end. Of note was Glenn's recovery from an early gap to secure the third position. Bill also fought back on the last lap and reclaimed the fourth position. I remained mostly next to the organizers table and had a good view of the race while I drank cider and ate apples and bagels. Breakfast at home was rather meager. Most of all I enjoyed encouraging the riders as they passed. Some of them acknowledged the cheering, but that was not expected. I also got a sense of what I was in for. You could literally see the pain in the faces of the riders as the laps progressed. Ouch!

I told Ben that all I wanted is not to be last. Even if that happened, I wasn't going to be too disappointed. I was told about the importance of getting a good starting position and to come around the barriers as close to the leaders as possible. On the other hand, this was a first time event for me and I had no hopes of placing among the first finishers, so I didn't want to get in the way. With the sound of cowbell, so awesome, we were sent off. I arrived at the first set of barriers in about 20th place. I passed a couple of riders as we jumped over the barriers and another few as we got to open road. I still could see Ben in front of me, so I knew I wasn't too far from the front. In the first lap I was certainly going faster than what I could sustain for an hour. But it was fun! I really enjoyed the muddy sections and in particular a flat stretch in the woods with a few gentle curves followed by a hump and a sharp left turn. I always seemed to either gain on riders in front of me or distance myself from whomever was behind me on this part. As the first lap ended I passed Eli Robinson on the triple barrier and I thought that was cool. He dropped me a few moments later. I heard Ernie yelling some good advice about pacing yourself and the amount of laps left. Acknowledged.

At the beginning of the second lap I was in a group of riders with Syracuse Bicycle jerseys. For a few laps we just shifted positions a bit. I felt I could go a bit faster, so I tried to pull away a few times, but I was caught on the open sections of the course. I had a bit of an incident with another rider when we came to a left turn. My MTB has disk brakes, so I could wait until the last moment to negotiate some of those tight turns. I decided to try to overtake a rider on the inside before turning, but I felt there wasn't going to be enough room, so I hit the brakes and slowed down to allow the rider on the outside to take the turn. However, he slid and went down. He was pissed. Probably rightly so, I'm not sure. I don't have cyclocross experience but I watch a lot of Formula 1, and there you can overtake on curves, on the inside, outside, as long as you occupy the space first. I felt he could have turned. Maybe he was a bit startled by the squeal of my brakes. In any case, it was a good opportunity to pull away since he kept yelling at me and I was in no mood to argue.

I managed to create enough space behind me, which I closely monitored with my helmet-mounted rear-view mirror, an asset other riders did not have. Only two riders passed me, one of which was the race leader and eventual winner, Steve. He went by so fast I figured it couldn't have been one of the guys I was with. I asked him if I was being lapped, but there was no reply. The other rider who passed me was Ethan Suttner. He managed to create a gap that I wasn't able to close. I had decided to go all out on the last lap and was saving some energy for that, but it didn't happen. Since I was lapped, I did one lap less than everyone in front of me except Ethan, who was also lapped. Oh well, better be faster next time.

At the very end Jeremy Gardner, race organizer and second overall, was about to lap me, but I made sure to put in one last kick to avoid that. Mission accomplished, I didn't finish last, far from it. I ended up in 12th place and was very happy. I was also happy for Ben, who finished 5th.

What I liked so much about the event was the interaction with the bystanders. That sweet sound of cowbell made the day. Ernie was also rooting a lot for me, and that made me want to keep on pushing.

Thanks to Jeremy Gardner, Marcia Swan, Glenn Swan, Mark Rishniw, Sara Barker, and all others involved in putting on this special event. As for cyclocross, I'll be in more events in the future. Thanks to Andy Goodell, I can share the pictures below.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Last year the Tour de Shunk was scheduled the day after the STAP Ride for Life in Ithaca, during which I crashed for the first time, face first on the pavement. I managed to finish the century, probably hurt my chances in an interview for McKinsey with a chin oozing fluids, but got back to riding in a week or so. This year I had my sights on the Shunk for a while and I was not disappointed. The company was great, the weather was nearly perfect and food was awesome. As far as the route goes, certainly not as tough as D2R2, but a good challenge for most people.Ben Kraft and Olivia Diamond (aka mean Bilenky tandem team) and I got a ride with Steve Powell. The tandem fit nicely in his SUV and the other bikes went on a rack. We left Ithaca shortly after 6am, arriving at Rocky's Bicycle Shop at about 7:50am. The cold was felt immediately, as the temperatures were hovering 40F. I failed to follow my own advice and did not bring arm warmers or tights along. Luckily I did bring a regular street jacket. Ben had an extra bungee and my bike was equipped with a front rack. So my troubles were solved. I would ride in the jacket till it got warm enough, then I would strap the jacket to the rack with the bungee. Of us all, Olivia was the one suffering the most with the cold. We were all eager to start moving.

Registration went smoothly, only $30 on the day of the event. For that amount we were fed at the 25, 45 and 70 mile marks and served a spaghetti dinner at the end of the ride. In addition, we could sign-up for a massage. The coveted massage lasted about 15 min and was administered by two massage therapists. Upon completing registration, we meet several other FLCCers, including John Dennis, Dan Barbasch, Gary Hodges and Stewart Wolsh. Ithaca was the city with most participants, 12 of the 203 cyclists.

Steve, Ben, Olivia and I decided to leave before the official start scheduled for 9am. The first 13 miles or so, with a total of 19 rollers (I am told), were familiar to me from the PA "Endless Mountains" 1000K. I made sure to notice the skunks painted on the pavement, indicating turns for the ride, and to be on the lookout for horses. Visibility was severly limited by the ubiquitous fog. We rode together at a moderate pace and passed a few other cyclists along the way. Picking the right speed was tricky. Ride too fast and the wind chill would make your fingers really get cold. Ride too slow and you didn't warm up at all.

As if by spell the fog started to disappear and patches of blue were seen in the sky. It would be a beautiful day. I remembered the song "Blue Skies" written by Irving Berlin, in particular as sung by Ella Fitzgerald. I could recall the tune, but not the lyrics, as is always the case with me. So I proceeded to hum along.

At the beginning of the first extended climb we were passed by a large group of cyclists in a paceline. I had stopped to take off the jacket, which was now strapped to my front rack. At this point Ben, Olivia and I separated from Steve. I was told sometime ago that tandems were fast on flats and slow on climbs. Not true for the tandem captained by Ben. I was happy to follow the pace. Along the way up the hill we passed a few cyclists. On the descent I tucked in behind the tandem and took advantage of all the draft I could get, making sure no other rider sneaked in front of me, robbing me of the awesome downhill advantage.

We had reached the 25 mile mark and the first snack stop. I still had plenty of water in my Camelbak, so I just drank some Gatorade and ate a couple of oatmeal raisin cookies. They were bite-size and delicious. At the stop we met up with Stewart along with a few Big Horn Velo riders out of Elmira. We left together just as Steve arrived at the stop.

The next 25 miles were a blur. We were moving swiftly on a downhill section followed by a flat stretch. I did not see much. Before I knew it we hit the 45 mile mark. Ben, Olivia and I decided to split from the rest of the group to enjoy more of the scenery. Riding in the paceline required attention that could not be devoted to the surroundings.

We allowed ourselves plenty of time to eat and relax in the sun. At this stop we saw several of our cycling friends come and go. Among them Blaine Chamberlain, Dan Barbasch, John Dennis and Jim Millar. I even enamored the idea of taking a nap. We left shortly after Steve caught up to us.

For a few miles after the stop we did not encounter a single cyclist. A rider behind us came close and then disappeared. I began to worry that we may have missed a turn. I looked desperately for the painted skunks and to my relief one was seen at a sharp right turn that led to a long ramp of a climb. Just as we turned a large group of cyclists encroached upon us. Our competitive side began to surface! At first I kept my pace and that was sufficient to distance myself from most of the riders that had started the climb at a higher pace than they could sustain. But a few of those riders were now climbing with us. Ben and Olivia were just ahead of me. Then a rider passed us, huffing and puffing as if in distress. I couldn't resist. It was a joy to accelerate on my steel frame with fenders and rack, passing the nice carbon frame next to me and watching it get farther away in my helmet-mounted rear-view mirror as I approached the summit. In the name of fenders!

One of the cyclists joined us for the downhill and ensuing rather flat section until the 70 mile mark. Along the way we passed many more painted skunks on the road and followed a creek for a few miles as well. I was getting a little hungry, so the stop was welcome. I drank some soda and had a few cookies along with a banana. At this point I had the spaghetti dinner in my thoughts, so I did not want to eat too much. This stop, as well as the others, was run by volunteers. Because of their continued dedication over the years, the ride has been very successful. In its current running, the 200 rider mark was surpassed and $6,200 was raised for the Lance Armstrong Foundation.

Perhaps the most unpleasant part of the ride was between miles 70 and 85. It was mostly on a rather busy road with high speed traffic. Both the tandem and I were eager to get off the busy road, so we worked together and moved efficiently along, passing several riders before we made a right turn that lead us towards the initial section of rollers where we began our ride.

The tandem, smelling the barn, imposed a furious pace. I followed with some difficulty and took advantage of draft whenever possible. We raced up the rollers before plunging down the other side. Other cyclists seemed to be immobile as we zipped by them. On the final turn we caught up with a large group that had stopped alongside the road. A few moments later I noticed we were being chased. I told Ben to go for the sprint and we successfully avoided the catch. Of course this was no race, but we did amuse ourselves.

I made the entrance into Rocky's with a hiss coming from my rear wheel. A piece of glass was stuck in my tire. Even the flat was perfectly timed. No need for a repair until the next ride.

After taking our bikes to the car we enjoyed the homemade spaghetti and sauce, along with two types of salad. Delicious. I didn't get my massage, but we topped the day off with a stop at Purity in Ithaca for ice cream.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

After my plan to take part in the epic Highlander on Saturday went down the drain because of the relatively high fee and iffy weather, I was looking forward to the FLCC ride. This was my first time on the Halsey Valley-Waverly-Spencer ride, which only had 5 cues, all right turns. Hard to make a mistake, right? I did! Ben, Olivia and I decided to ride out of Ithaca instead of starting in Spencer. A 8am start would allow for plenty of time to reach Spencer for the official 10am start. Maybe because I have done so many brevets this year, I have become somewhat of a cue-sheet anarchist and haven't taken them on many of the recent club rides. It adds a little adventure to the ride. Besides, with only 5 cues it shouldn't be that hard to remember the route.

Ben had proposed a route that would take us along some very nice back roads on the way to Spencer. The morning was cool and sunny, perfect weather for cycling. Time went by quickly and conversation was very pleasant, interrupted by the occasional downhill. Ben and Olivia make a great tandem team. It was nearly impossible for me to keep up whenever the front of our bikes was pointing down. Uphill the story wasn't too different either. Along the way we stopped to pick some pears and take pictures of a few farm animals. Fall foliage is starting to appear and that was duly noted. It was about 9:30am when we arrived in Spencer. But, where is the start after all?

None of us knew. I somehow had the name "Lake Rd" in my head. We rode around a bit, but no Lake Rd was seen. Fortunately Olivia was able to use her iphone to access the calendar on the FLCC website. The name of the road we wanted to find was Water St. I entered a cafe and got the directions. Once we arrived at the rendezvous point FLCCers Mike Richter, Steve Powell and new addition Mike, a graduate student in the Applied Economics masters program at Cornell, were getting ready to ride. It would be six of us. Steve proposed to make a small detour to Sayre, PA to enjoy a meal at the Banana Curve Diner. I smiled. After applying a generous amount of sunscreen we left shortly after 10am.

The first 13 miles of the ride were very pleasant. Halsey Valley Rd is gently rolling with not much traffic. I noticed a sign that read "Change by Obama" on one side and on the other it cited unemployment rates from July and August, showing an increase of 0.3%. I am not sure the objective was to point out the difference between the two months (since we are speaking of change) or the elevated unemployment rate overall. I checked the numbers with those issued by the Bureau of Labor Statistics and they are correct. It seems that the intention of whoever put the sign up is to single out Obama. Very misleading... But after a week during which a congressman called the president a liar while he was addressing the house and senate and so much turmoil was created around a speech to children, this does not surprise me. Back to cycling...

The tandem was surely responsible for lifting the pace by a few mph and I was pretty concerned to see 24-25mph on my odometer more often then not. We were moving pretty quickly. But now it was time to turn onto 17C, a busy road with not much to offer in terms of scenery. This road was familiar somehow. It then occurred to me that I had ridden the same road on the second day of the PA 1000K in late June. My suspicions were confirmed when I spotted "Bare Facts," a strip club on the opposite side of the road. Like the day I rode by the first time, it was closed.

Shortly after we passed "Bare Facts," it was time to split. Steve, Ben, Olivia, the new Mike and I were interested in the diner stop. Sam and the old Mike had commitments in the afternoon and needed to return to Ithaca.

The Banana Curve diner reminded me of a function that is often used to test optimization algorithms, the Rosenbrock function: f(x, y) = (1-x)^2 + 100(y-x^2)^2, also known as the banana function because of the shape it resembles. Somehow I think it is unlikely that optimization or the Rosenbrock function was an inspiration for the diner. In any case, most customers at the Banana Curve diner were suspicious of our presence. It was a very conservative setting, with a flare of flags and plaques reminding us of God and slightly xenophobic statements. I was interested in the food, and it wasn't all that great. But this opinion is somewhat influenced by the setting.

Upon leaving the diner we resumed our ride on SR 34 heading north. Within the first mile a driver yelled something offensive at me. Initially I thought he was calling my name, but everyone else was pretty sure he was not. Coincidence or not, this was the same spot where an FLCCer (Don) was almost run over less than a month ago.

Out of no apparent reason, the tandem accelerated. The new Mike jumped on the wheel. I wasn't in the mood for intense efforts while my cheese & broccoli omelet was still sitting in my stomach. Steve and I rode together for a while. But now I could no longer see the tandem. OK, I guess I should chase. Since there wasn't much around worthy of looking at and the wind was blowing pretty fiercely, I put my head down and raised the tempo. After a while I passed Mike and eventually caught up to Ben and Olivia. Then we kept taking turns in the wind, missing our right turn. A couple of miles down the road we realized the turn was taking longer than expected to appear. So we backtracked and noticed that the road was labeled "Dean Creek" and we were expecting "Dean Hill." Close enough.

It took us a while to catch up with Steve and Mike. Both of them were surprised to see us behind them. The morning blue sky had been replaced by thick cloud cover. Rain seemed likely. We rode together for a few miles before arriving in Spencer, the end of the ride for Steve and Mike. Ben, Olivia and I started our last leg to Ithaca. Ben once again had picked out some nice dirt roads on the way back.

We started with East Hill Rd, where we saw a few alpacas and a horse as well. This was followed by Hart Rd, on which we experienced a high speed descent on gravel. Nothing that our tires couldn't handle. After turning onto Danby Rd we began to discuss which road would be best for our last leg. Ben was inclined to take Durfee Hill Rd, but Olivia seemed a bit reluctant. I was neutral. In the end Ben threw in some household choirs in the negotiation. Olivia was convinced.

Durfee Hill initially seems innocuous. But soon the road becomes narrower, more technical and very steep. The climb lasts for quite a while and a misshift to a higher gear in the steepest section complicated things a bit. We made it to the top together, enjoying the remaining miles on our way back to Ithaca with an enhanced sense of accomplishment. I like Durfee.

Ben and I felt this route could be improved by including more back roads, avoiding long stretches on 17C and 34. This will likely add some hills, but on the other hand we spent most of the time on the flat busy roads battling the wind.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

The weather in Ithaca has been spectacular in the past few days, a great excuse to get on the bicycle and ride. Today a 72 mile loop was on the calendar, taking us through Speedsville, then south of Weltonville onto SR38 up to Newark Valley. In Newark Valley the group split and those of us longing for more miles continued on Rock St to Maine, heading north to intercept SR38 once again, this time in Berkshire. Glen Rd took us back to Speedsville and familiar surroundings. The mileage was just right, the weather was just right and the company was just right.This morning I woke up at 8am, with plenty of time to prepare for the 9am start. However, somewhat exhilarated by the 3-1 victory of the Brazilian soccer team over Argentina (in Argentina) of the previous night, I totally forgot about the FLCC ride. With yesterday's win, Brazil is officially qualified for the 2010 World Cup in South Africa and continues to be the only nation to have played in all World Cups, starting in 1930. I better not start talking about soccer. In any case, I woke up to turn the alarm clock off, puzzled by why it was even on, and went straight back to bed. At 9:06am I jumped off my bed and realized that I actually had a ride to go to, and that I was already way too late. For a moment I debated on driving to Speedsville for the shorter version of the ride, but in the end I got out of the door as quick as I could and began to chase. This was not my idea of starting a leisurely Sunday ride.

I left on an empty stomach and was not warmed up at all for the effort I was putting out. While on SR79 I debated on whether it might be faster to continue straight instead of taking a right turn onto Brooktondale Rd. I decided to stick with the cue-sheet. However, I was already going up Old 76 and hadn't seen a single FLCCer. I was hoping to catch everybody before reaching Speedsville. For a moment I was frustrated. I had ridden past the start at 9:16am, and I assumed that most had left no earlier than 9:05am. Maybe even later if Gary was there. On the other hand, the same Gary usually takes off pretty quick once the ride begins. There were no major climbs, so the group would remain pretty cohesive. Just as I passed Caroline Center I saw a cyclist around the curve. A strangler! I was filled with hope. I approached whom I believe was Anne Shapiro. I inquired about the rest of the group and to my dismay she said nobody had passed her, and that she was expecting it to happen at any moment. I was perplexed. Had the group taken a different route? After a couple of minutes riding with Anne, I saw a contingent of riders in my rear-view mirror. I had gotten ahead of the group! They decided to take Ellis Hollow to avoid riding on SR79. Whew! I was happy to be part of the ride. It was a smaller group than I would have expected on such a beautiful day, comprised of Stewart Wolsh, Sam Kolins, Eileen Penner, Ruth Sherman, Wayne Gottlieb, Mike Richter, Jim (yellow jersey and old-school Camelbak) and Eric from Waverly, whom I had seen for the first time on a FLCC ride.

We soon were in Speedsville, where we met another first-timer, whose name I did not catch. She was not quite ready to roll, so some of us decided to stop at the nearby gas station to use the bathroom. While there I also bought some Gatorade and an ice cream cone for breakfast. By the time I got back on my bike it became apparent that I would not be able to negotiate a few extra minutes to eat my ice cream. Eating ice cream while you are trying to chase is not very pleasant. I ate as quickly as possible and Mike helped me catch up to the rest of the group. By the time I was settled in the pace line I thought it would be a great opportunity to take a picture. I pulled my camera out of my jersey pocket and turned it on. The lens didn't budge. Oh, silly me I thought. It was in "view" mode. I selected "camera" mode and turned it on again. The lens didn't budge. Oh no! It occurred to me that I had removed the battery to charge the night before and forgot to put it back in the camera. I asked the other riders if any of them had a camera. Unfortunately not. This is why the ride report has no pictures, so you will just have to rely on my lack of adjectives to express how beautiful it was.

Eric was off the front for a good portion of the time we spent heading south on W Creek Rd. I later learned that he was attempting to ride without ingesting carbs, to force his body to use reserves. I spoke to Eric about randonneuring and riding 220+ miles on consecutive days with 3h of sleep. I thought about BHVers Bill Fischer, John Fessenden, Mark Sheehan and also Blaine Chamberlain, who at this point were hopefully enjoying some sleep after their 24h Fake Fleche in and out of Pennsylvania. I had planned to join them, but canceled my participation an hour or so prior to the start.

Left turn on Blodgett Rd. We had reached the southernmost point of the ride. I was talking to Mike when suddenly the water bottle of our addition in Speedsville came loose and hit the pavement. Mike barely dodged the fallen water bottle with his front wheel, the rear wheel having less luck. I observed as his rear wheel went over the water bottle and the cap flew off. Fortunately Mike didn't loose control and nobody was injured. Loose water bottles can be a hazard. After the water bottle was collected we resumed the ride on 38 towards Newark Valley.

Once we reached Newark Valley Ruth, Jim, Wayne and the Speedsville addition decided to cut the ride short by remaining on SR38. They missed the best part of the ride. While some of us visited a gas station for fluids, Stewart rode up Rock St to find a pee spot. Sam did the same later. Eileen then commented about how male riders are careful when in the presence of women. I then plugged-in an advertisement for "Go Girl," a female urination device that allows women to pee standing up without any special skills. I have witnessed some women who can urinate in an upright stance with more precision than most men, but I will not get into that. You can read more about this extraordinarily simple, yet wonderful device here.

We were on the lookout for Sam as we rode up Rock St. "Sam, where are you?," could be heard as we climbed. Finally we spotted his bike and immediately thereafter Sam popped out of the bushes. Rock St continued gently up and then rewarded us with a long and fun descent. Steward rated this road among his top ten in NY. A great addition to the FLCC calendar.

The ride resumed along Tiona Rd after a brief stretch on SR26. The scenery was quite breathtaking. Pavement was in good condition and the rolling terrain provided quality exercise. The group split a bit, with Mike and I hanging a little further back. The beauty of the landscape contrasted with the not-so-beautiful properties and a junkyard along the way. With the rest of the group moving out of sight, I decided to chase. A few rollers later I joined them until we reached our first and only cue-sheet issue. The cue-sheet had us going on Tiona Rd, which becomes Kechumville Rd and then Barnes Rd. However, Kechumville Rd does not really become Barnes. Barnes is a seasonal road with a steep descent on gravel. The main road (Kechumville) bends right where Barnes begins. I was looking forward to some dirt, but decided to not voice my opinion too strongly, as most in the group were on 23's. In the end Barnes won and it was a fun descent. I did hit the brakes briefly as it got pretty bumpy, but otherwise I let the Sam Hillborne roll freely. We regrouped a mile later and proceeded on Hartwell and Turkey Hill Rd into Berkshire.

In Berkshire Sam manifested his discontent for missing the local Chicken BBQ and Bake Sale, which took place yesterday. Funds were donated to the Ruppert family. Maybe our president David Ruppert knows something about this. We all left Birkshire longing for BBQ Chicken, or at least I did. Berkshire Rd brought us over the ridge and back to SR38, where we then took Glen Rd into Speedsville. In Speedsville we stopped again. The "man with the hammer" was hovering around Eric. French cartoonist René Pellarin, under the pseudonym Pellos, depicts this man in the cartoon below magnificently. More about him and some of his cartoons can be found here.

Cartoon by Pellos

The man with the hammer did not bother any of us and we made it to EHP at about 3pm. Stewart would still ride 22 miles before reaching the comfort of his home tallying 116 miles for the day. For all of us this was the first time on the Newark Valley - Main ride. A new addition or not, this ride is a great FLCC event.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

A large contingent of FLCC-ers flocked to Homer, NY from many directions. Then, we seemed to have also left Homer in multiple directions. In the end everyone was accounted for. It was an interesting ride to say the least. Maybe we should start riding Audax style, where a ride captain determines which way to go, how long each rider pulls, much like a captain on a row boat. Everybody works efficiently together, no sprinting off the front of the group. Stops are predetermined beforehand. In France they have been riding like this for over a century. One FLCC-er discovered the limits of the body, by attempting the 100 mile ride out of Ithaca without water or food for the entire ride.Unlike last weekend, this time I was at the Ithaca start on time. Bill Fischer, John Fessenden, Sam Kolins, Ben Kraft, Stewart Wolsh, Eileen Penner, Gary Hodges, Blaine Chamberlain, Acmae El Yacoubi (aka Ace) and I departed Ithaca at about 8:10am towards Homer. We had just passed Tower Rd when a loud pop startled everyone. John had flatted. He must have had 150 psi in his tires judging from the bang. While we waited for him Gary shot off in the distance, unaware of our incident. I used the time to eat a PB&J sandwich, since I had left home in a rush on an empty stomach. In the interim we were joined by Mark Sheehan, a late arrival.

Once our ride resumed we moved at a brisk pace towards Homer, picking up Ben's brother Max Kraft along the way. Max just completed a 4,087 mile journey over 72 days from Providence to San Francisco as part of the Bike&Build initiative. You can read more about it here. Apparently David Sahn was with Max, but decided to follow Gary as he passed by.

Upon arriving in Homer the group split. Gary, misunderstanding where the ride start actually was, darted off in pursuit of another cyclist ahead of us on SR281. Many, including myself, followed. In my rear-view mirror I thought to have seen Bill, our unofficial ride leader. It turns out I was mistaken. I decided to pull over at a gas station to purchase some fluids. At this time the group that was with me continued. I kept an eye on the road and did not see others pass. I thought this was strange, since I was inside for about 5 min. Once I got back on the bike I noticed the time, 9:58am. This was really strange. Bill had mentioned that we would arrive with plenty of time to spare. In my mind, I wasn't yet at the official ride start and it was already almost 10am. Further ahead I saw an entrance to a park. I remember starting a 65 mile ride last year with the Onondaga Cycling Club at this park. Then Gary came racing towards SR281. He saw the rest of the group continue while he was using the bathroom at the park. We decided to continue on SR281 for a while. Once we arrived in Preble I realized the mistake. This is where we were supposed to end the loop around Otisco Lake, not begin! I suggested we try to intercept the official route by taking a detour to the other side of the valley. There was a dirt road with a mega incline in the right direction. Gary and I turned right instead, hoping for another option. At this point Gary contacted Eileen and we found out they too were trying to cut across to the other side of the lake. According to a couple on a tandem, the dirt road was the only way. Gary and I joined Eileen, Mark and John and up the dirt road we went. This climb resembled the many D2R2 climbs, long and difficult. A gnarly descent followed. I let the Sam roll, reaching almost 40mph. It's a good thing I was on 30 mm tires inflated to 50 psi.

The dirt road intersected Cold Brook Rd, where we should have started the ride many miles earlier. As John and I were waiting for the rest to join us, I heard faint voices in the distance. Then many cyclists crested over a hump. We had been joined by the riders who drove to Homer and started the ride at the correct location. Sam was with them. I can remember Doug Dylla, Rob Ferguson, Steve Powell and his daughter, Sara Strickland, Mary Ann Huntley, Mike Richter, Jim Millar and Keith Dickerson. There were others whose names have slipped my mind. Noticed absences were Bill, Blaine, David and Ace. Further riders not accounted were Ben, Max and Stewart. Assuming they maintained there speed, they would be in Syracuse at that point.

After some debriefing, we rolled on. The group split not long thereafter. I remained in the back of the pack for a bit and then decided to chase the lead group, as many of those riders would also be riding back to Ithaca. Every time I chase I am reminded of the efficiency of a pace line. I was only able to catch them because of a few lumps here and there and a descent on Willowdale Rd. We moved on towards SR174. On the way we had a few spirited sprints. In hindsight I should not have contested them given the cramps I am now suffering every time my legs are not extended.

Gary, Keith, Sam and Mike stopped for a tire repair. Jim, Mark, John and I decided to move on to the first stop of the ride at the D&R Convenience Corner. This is the same place I stopped during my last Otisco ride, on March 21, with a 14F start. While we were replenishing ourselves with fluids outside, I saw Ace come along! What? Where did she come from? What was more surprising is that she did not see Keith, Gary, Sam or Mike. This was weird. I guess strange things happen around Otisco Lake. Ace is fasting for Ramadan. Believe it or not, she was riding without food or water. If she was hurting, it didn't show off the bike. I thought this attempt was pretty crazy. Then I saw Ace with a cup of water. For a moment I thought she would drink. But she didn't. It was only to rinse her mouth. She spat all the water out. Oh, crazy little Ace! We were over 50 miles into the ride at this point. She had also accumulated some bonus miles. We learned from her that she was riding with Bill, Blaine and David, but got dropped along the way. Soon we were joined by the trailing riders. Then suddenly Ben and Max arrived from the opposite direction! They had gone further on SR281 and finally decided to turn around. Stewart almost reached Syracuse before he too turned around and joined the Kraft brothers. According to Ben, he crossed with Bill, Blaine and David. Stewart joined Bill while Ben decided to continue around the lake in the counterclockwise direction. For a brief moment of the ride we were (almost) all together, at the D&R.

The Kraft brothers continued their counterclockwise loop while a few of us decided to move ahead. Ace was struggling. Sam and I dozed off for a bit when we noticed a large gap in front of us. Together Sam and I worked to close the gap to Keith, Mike, Mark, John, Eileen, Gary, Jim and John. We moved swiftly along the valley in a pace line. In no time we had reached Preble. A few phone calls confirmed that Bill, Blaine and David were 5 miles ahead of us waiting at the Cafe Mania in Homer. Our pace line accelerated and I wasn't feeling so great. I needed to eat. Keith and Mike must have peeled off since I cannot remember seeing them at the Cafe Mania. Bill & Co were no longer there. I didn't think twice. I had a delicious quiche and a raspberry frappuccino. Finally I was able to also use a bathroom. It really improved my mood.

While I was savoring the quiche Ben and Max arrived at the Cafe Mania upon completion of their loop. We decided to check on Ace. She was in distress. After mile 70 she bonked and moved with difficulty for 10 miles. At one point she felt very sleepy and had to get off the bike and walk. She was lost somewhere around Homer and would not be able to ride home. Fortunately several FLCC-ers were willing to help. Thanks to Eileen a rescue operation was assembled and Sara drove Ace back to Ithaca. She is now well but I believe the lesson to not abuse of your body in that way has been learned. It will take several days to recover from dehydration. I know this from experience.

Once we were certain that Ace had been found we continued our ride back to Ithaca. The returning leg was rather uneventful, except for the strong head wind we encountered. Working in a pace line greatly reduced the overall effort of the group. Ben and Max peeled off in Freeville. We arived shortly after 3:30pm at EHP. Bill and Blaine were still there. To top off the mystery of this ride, Mark Sheehan showed up a few minutes later, coming up Mitchell Rd. He had been dropped somewhere along US11 before reaching Homer and had continued, joining Bill, Blaine and Stewart in McLean for ice cream. Then they dropped him. I don't know how he ended up on Mitchell St.

It was hard to keep track of all the mishaps. A common denominator was that this was a great day to ride, with manageable temperatures and clear skies until noon.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

After completing over 5000 km in brevets this year, I have decided to limit (most) of my rides to 100 miles or less, with an emphasis towards achieving the goal of becoming faster. The Skaneateles ride is advertised as 41 miles in length with a start at the southern end of the lake. If you ride out of Ithaca it brings the total distance to about 100 miles, out and back. So this ride fits into the 100 mile category. I was happy to hear during the week that Bill Fischer and others from Elmira would drive to Ithaca at 7:30am and ride to the 10am start. As the ride day approached, my only concern was the weather.I woke up at 7am and looked out the window. It seemed as if it was raining. That put me immediately back in bed. 38 min later I woke up again. Now I was late. I looked out the window. In spite of the cloud cover, it was dry. Luckily I had left everything set up the night before, so it took me about 5 min to get out the door. By the time I reached the rendezvous point everyone was gone, except for Mark Sheehan, who had just pulled in. I waited for him to get ready and we left EHP at about 8am. We thought that would be enough time. The only detail is that we had no cue sheets nor did we know which way we were going to get there.

Our laissez-faire approach was actually quite effective. We followed Lower Creek / Upper Creek road into McLean (I find this name amusing for obvious reasons) and then turned left onto Church Rd/Lafayette Rd. At this point I realized we were following the exact same route as the Moravia ride earlier this year. The clock was not forgiving and in spite of our good pace, it would be difficult to make the 10am start. Initially we planned riding into Moravia and then climbing east towards the start. A few miles before arriving in Moravia and only 15 minutes before 10am we realized it would not be possible. At this point in time Mark's GPS came in handy. He found a road that would take us across to 41A, which in turn goes by the Colonial Inn, location of the ride start. At about 9:50am Mark noticed we had about 3 miles left and that at 15 mph it would take us 12 min to reach the start. I didn't question his math, which I now know was correct. However, we were going uphill. I then asked him "Are you going at 15 mph?", to which he replied "No." Neither was I. It was more like 12 mph. Missing the ride start by a few minutes would be very frustrating, so I decided to give it a try. The gradual uphill continued for a while, but eventually it subsided and I made good time. I was happy to see the full contingent still at the start, at 10:01am.

At the start were Bill Fischer, John Fessenden, Sam Kolins, David Sahn, Jim Millar, Steve Powell, Eileen Penner and her guest Kirt (Kirk?). Mark, who pulled in a few minutes later, and I completed the roster. I heard from the others that Gary Hodges would be driving to the start. Gary is known for his last minute / a few minutes late arrivals. Eileen tried reaching him on the cellphone, but reception was bad. Actually, there was thick fog leading up to the start. Visibility was poor. We waited a bit and decided to leave at about 10:20am.

The group remained together only for a few miles. Sam noticed that Kirt has vanished. He tried communicating this to the others, but there was no success. I decided to follow Sam's lead and slow down and wait a bit for Kirt. I suspected he had flatted. In retrospect I should have backtracked. Steve, Sam and I separated from the group. Our decision was poor, since now we had failed to find Kirt and also lost the rest of the group. After a quick 15 miles or so we regrouped in Skaneateles. Eileen was suprised by Kirt's absence, but a phone call dissipated any worries as he was en route.

About a year ago I did my first club ride. It was precisely the Skaneateles ride (41 miles) and also my longest ride at the time. It was a very warm summer day and I managed to dehydrate on that ride, cramping at the end. On the way back I almost fell asleep in my car while driving. Since that scorching day I cannot forgive myself for not swimming in the lake, although I did stand on it during a 108 mile ride in mid-winter under heavy snowfall. I made sure to pack my trunks and a hand towel in my Carradice Barley saddlebag. My swimming companion, Ace, bailed out as she is fasting during Ramadan, and a 100 mile bike ride is not advisable without food or drink. The other swimming partner John Dennis could not join because he is in Canada for his son's college debut. So I had no swimming companions. I hate to hold people up, but I think of club rides as social events, where stopping and enjoying what the ride has to offer is part of the package. I'm glad a few riders decided to wait and Jim even joined me for a dip. I was a bit disappointed that I was only allowed to swim in a minuscule square area of the lake and only in the presence of life guards. At times like this I miss the lack of prohibitions. Lifeguards were not on duty, but I jumped in anyway. I did not want to raise too much attention, so I confined myself to immersing my head under water, no swimming. We should do a night ride where everyone jumps naked in the lake. That would be fun.

My impromptu dip-in-the-lake allowed Gary Hodges and Kirt to catch up. Then Gary, Jim, David, Eileen and Kirt had pastries at the Sherwood Inn Patisserie. Sam and I waited at the park on the lake. Once the croissants et al. were eaten we joined the rest of the group at the firehouse on Nunnery Rd. They serve a pancake breakfast on Sundays it seems. At this point I had only eaten an energy bar since the previous evening and already tallied 50 miles plus (and the dip in the lake). I was hungry and not having something to eat was not an option. However, I was short on money. I only brought my credit card and $2 for swimming (in case the lifeguards were on duty). It turns out that for non-residents, the fee is actually $3. Even with the swimming savings I was $4 short. Bill was kind enough to lend me the money. I got in line and Gary approached me to say that everyone was leaving. Great! I tried to eat as quick as possible, and I even forgot to take a picture of the quite ingenious pancake contraption. This consists of a rotating disk about 4 ft in diameter that is heated from below and upon which the pancake mix is poured in consistent amounts by another clever gadget. The mix is poured on one side and before a full revolution the pancakes are ready to be eaten. Amazing! Along with two pancakes I had orange juice and two eggs. I must have eaten all that in less than 3 min. I was eager to get back on the bike and rejoin the group. That took a while.

I was reminded that any speed above 0 mph is infinitely faster than 0 mph. I didn't want to push too hard, given the extra 30 miles I would ride on the way home. I only caught up with the group towards the end of the ride. First I passed Steve on Scott Gulf Rd, then I met Gary and Eileen at the Bear Swamp turn. They were waiting for Kirt, who I had not seen. Gary then told me that the remainder of the group had continued up Scott Gulf. I then caught a glimpse of them and unlike the others, I was undeterred by gravel on my 30 mm Grand Bois tires, soon catching up to David, then Mark and finally Sam, Bill and John. Just in time!

The ride back to Ithaca was spirited with John and I challenging ourselves up some of the hills. After a stop in McLean, we arrived at EHP at about 3:30pm. It was a great day to ride, even if not the most beautiful.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

It was only a day before this ride that Peter Ozolins shed some light on the origin of the acronym. Two D's and two R's. That simple. I was seeking for some connection to a droid from Naboo. I disagree with the first of the letters. Yes, it starts in Deerfield. However, a "D" for devilish would be more fitting. If you are in seek of a one-day challenge, this is quite the ride. It was a hot sunny day and buckets of sweat poured down our legs. In the end, most of us were happy. Unfortunately one of our local riders, Brian Lawney, suffered a broken collarbone. I suspect he will be back next year.It was Brian Lawney who posted information about D2R2 a few months ago on our local cycling club list. At the time I had just finished the Shenandoah 1200K and was getting ready for the PA 1000K, so I put a little asterisk next to the e-mail and visited the link. It seemed like a great ride. The summer came and I finally was able to order the parts for my new bike, the Sam Hillborne. Glenn and his dexterous assistant David built the bike and Ben helped me with the fenders and rack. D2R2 was the perfect occasion for a maiden voyage. Every component of this bike was selected with thought, the tires even more so. I chose the beautiful Grand Bois "Cyprès" 30mm tires for comfort and their excellent cornering adhesion. I was eager to ride.

Ithaca was well represented at the start by Brian Lawney, Laura Kozlowski, Peter Ozolins, Ben Kraft, Jake Bolewski and me. I also met several fellow randonneurs from the PA series, including Bill Fischer and Jack Brace. Just before 6am most of us were occupied with breakfast and registration. Brian was still in his street clothes and taking pictures of the riders and bikes. The organizers allowed riders to start anytime between 6am and 7am.

Stage 1: Deerfield to Heath (35.7 miles, 5750' total climbing)

Peter, Ben, Laura and I started together at about 6:30am. There was thick fog everywhere and I remember thinking it was a cloudy day. Soon the pavement was replaced by dirt and the sun was visible and shining bright. Often we were under heavy tree cover, and it became quite dark all of a sudden. Just a few miles into the ride we were passed by a large group with matching cycling jerseys. They furiously speed by us and Ben was tempted to chase. He did so for a bit, but eased off. This was no race. A couple of miles down the road we passed the same group, which had now stopped to fix a flat. I did not resist and said "30 mm" as I road by, crossing my fingers at the same time. Eventually we were catching up to riders that had started before us. Of note was a hog in the middle of the road. I had to dismount and take a picture. A perfect mascot for such a ride. As we rode on it was interesting to see how different the riders and their bikes were. At the first water stop I was amazed to see a rider with Zipp aero wheels. That is just nuts. We were told that the climbing was about to start. What? Oh, so true.

Before the ride I had commented how I rarely took pictures of climbs. Most of the time I am suffering and taking pictures is not the first thing that crosses my mind. I do regret it later, however, as I have no evidence of the hills that were conquered. D2R2 would be no different. You can believe me, but I encourage you to experience it. The climbing was unrelenting. Just before the end of Stage 1 we started a very steep climb on asphalt. I got a bit cocky and went to the front passing all the carbon people. I miscalculated the length of the climb and soon I was being passed by everyone else. That effort would have dire consequences for many miles.

Atop of the hill was the control. There we found water and food. I was already exhausted and we had only ridden a little over a quarter of the total mileage. I was enjoying my ride on the Sam, but at times I was longing for a lighter bike. How mean of me. I seized the opportunity to wash my face and hands with cold water, proceeding to refuel with a PB&J sandwich. Brian and his team caught up to us at the control. We exchanged our impressions of the ride so far and all agreed it was living up to the promise.

Archambo Rd. Hillman Rd. Archambo, Hillman. Those names will be remembered in every cell of my body. Generations to come (in the event of a successful lineage) will prick their ears up to these words. First Archambo, a 27% grade beast with loose gravel. Most of the riders dismounted. Few were lucky enough to make it to the top without unclipping. I am proud to be one. The 30 mm tires had a greater role to play than my legs. The heavier frame also helped retain traction. In the end I was glad not to be beaten by the hill. Hillman was waiting. Hillman is deceptive. It starts out at a moderate grade and rolls into a false flat. "Ha ha! You are nothing," I thought. Well, Hillman had the better of me. I did reach its summit, but not much was left. My smile had been replaced by grimace. The ride was still far from over.

Eventually we began to descend. Is this possible? Am I dreaming? It is on the descent where the Sam shines. I felt confidence in each corner, cruising down the hill. My only worry was the rattling of the stainless steel water bottles. Had they not been there I would have gone faster. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. On our way to the lunch control an ambulance passed us. It was evident that one of the riders was injured. Further up the road we passed the ambulance and I recognized the rider's jersey. It was the same as Brian's. I commented to Peter that the rider was probably in Brian's group. Ben joined us and told us that it WAS Brian. We continued, knowing that he was being taken care of. At the lunch stop I asked one of his team members about Brian. I was told he broke his collarbone. I felt for him, since I knew he was very enthusiastic about this ride, and to have it end like that is a bummer. His love for dirt roads will surely bring him back next year.

The lunch stop was sprawling with cyclists. It was conveniently located next to a covered bridge and we had access to the river. It didn't take long before I was barefoot walking into the river. I dipped my head in the water and washed my face and arms. How refreshing. A huge line of hungry cyclists had assembled. After my turn in the line I was content to eat a baked potato, chips, a hard-boiled egg and a PB&J sandwich. We also caught up with Jake of the Cornell Cycling Team. He decided to join us for the rest of the ride. At the control I spoke with Jack Brace. He was not feeling well at all and decided to call it quits. I have no idea how many riders quit along the way, but I am sure that the heat had a large role to play. Drinking enough and replenishing electrolytes in the right amount is not always easy. I guess the body has very complex mechanisms to ensure the proper balance, but we must provide it with the ingredients in manageable amounts.

"This section has three hard climbs and then a monster, but there are flat stretches in between."

The words above were displayed on the ride cue-sheet. I deleted them on my own version. I did not want to know. Each turn was for me just a name. Just one more mile, up or down did not matter. I would take the pain and the pleasure of the ride. That being said, I did suffer quite a lot. Soon after we left the lunch control I was dropped. I had been here before and I knew it was important to take it easy as the route allows. Probably the hardest moment of the ride occurred when I rejoined the group at an impromptu water station. Everyone was holding a Gatorade in their hand. I was offered one and I gladly accepted. Only to find out a few seconds later that none were left. The disappointment I felt was so large and was exacerbated by the joy every other rider felt as they swallowed their Gatorade. As a consolation prize I took a bottle of water. Not all was lost. I noticed that one of my water bottles still had a rather concentrated lemonade mix in it. That together with the fresh water would make for a Gatorade-like drink. The little pleasures of life are so meaningful.

The struggle continued. On the climb I would get dropped, on the descent I would make time and on the flat I would keep up. At some point during the ride Peter's GPS began to disagree with the cue-sheet. The GPS nor Peter were at fault. He had downloaded the route from somebody else that had made it available on the internet. The person who mapped the route did not check thoroughly enough and some turns were missed. I didn't miss the turns because I was following the cue-sheet. These slight deviations allowed me to catch up with the group. At one point I was even ahead. I had seen how they missed a turn, but in my state I was not about to chase anyone. The heat was punishing. My legs did not feel sore, I was just lethargic. In that lethargic pace I began to climb the so called monster named Patten Hill. When I looked at the cue-sheet it seems the climb was only 2 miles long. It felt like a lot more. They were agonizing miles. Along the way I passed several victims of this climb that were slowly walking up with their bikes. I breathed heavily. Each pedal stroke brought me closer to the summit. In the end I made it, tired and in need of refreshment. I was at the control. I found a garden hose that I used to wash my head, arms and legs, once more. There was also watermelon. I ate lots. The control was located at the "Little Big House Gallery", a home that looks like a one-room cottage but is actually a three floor house with 3,000 sq ft. It is home of artist, builder, inventor and humorist Glen Ridler. Here we were told that the climbing was over. That was a lie. But a welcomed one. Interesting it is to know you are being lied to and still can be quite happy about it.

Stage 4: Patten Hill to Deeerfield (13.9 miles, 1400' total climbing)

I don't know if it was the watermelon, the proximity to the finish or the sight of the Little Big House, but I was feeling much better. Of course there was climbing involved. It was not easy by any stretch of the imagination, but in comparison to what we had just ridden, it certainly felt less punishing. Everyone in the group was happy, especially Ben. He was really excited about completing a tough and long ride in great condition. Earlier in the year we had ridden a 150 miler during which he injured his knee. I felt a bit responsible for leading him into that scenario. On this ride I did not see one moment of distress in him. He looked and climbed strong all the way. Peter was also impressive. Riding with his lowest 39x25 gear was no small feat. And Laura, well, amazing. She rode strong the whole way.

We all rolled in at 6:46pm, just in time for dinner offered by the event organizers. There we met Brian, who was in good spirits in spite of his misfortune. I ate a lot and didn't have trouble sleeping. Lights out!

Monday, June 29, 2009

It was a small contingent at the start in Quakertown, PA. Eight of us rode up and over the many climbs of the "Endless Mountains" brevet, each in our own way. In the end all of us finished the ride within the allowed time limit for 100% completion. After riding the entire ACP PA series this year, I can attest to the beauty of the state of Pennsylvania. It was my last big ride of the year and my last in the US, a farewell of sorts, as I will return to my home country Brazil. With me I'll take memories of the incredible landscape and the cherished company of fellow cyclists.Pre-ride

During this year's edition of the Shenandoah 1200K I injured my right Achilles tendon. In fear of turning it into a chronic injury, I didn't ride my bicycle during the 12 day interlude before the PA ACP 1000K. As a precautionary measure, I also taped both of my Achilles tendons. I was prepared to DNF if I had to. The day before the ride I pedaled about half a mile and everything felt OK. Half a mile is really not a serious test.

An afternoon meeting was canceled, which allowed me to arrive early in Quakertown. For the first time I actually was in bed and almost asleep at 10pm for a 4am start. I was very happy to feel the cool air as I entered the hostel bedroom. There was air conditioning! A real treat on a warm night.

At 2:30am I was up. After a relaxing shower I joined the contingent downstairs for the pre-ride breakfast. It was a small group comprised of Rick Carpenter, Jud Hand, Chip Adams, Bill Fischer, John Fessenden, George Winkert, Patrick O'Donnell and myself.

Rick helped me tape both of my Achilles tendons and I immediately realized this would be a rather painful affair. Walking was difficult. After the pre-ride meeting, during which RBA Tom Rosenbauer gave last minute instructions, we were sent off.

Day 1

On the first few rollers leaving the hostel I noticed that I was not in top shape. In addition, every pedal stroke was painful. I don't shave my legs and that may have contributed to the pain. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to stay off the bike for so many days and then start with a 200+ mile day. I had made the choice and it was time to deal with it.

Initially I rode up to the front to see that Patrick was leading. Where was Rick? I thought I was the last to leave the hostel. Apparently Rick had some business to take care of just as we were rolling out and stayed back. Suddenly I saw him next to me and then he was gone. I could not help but notice that he was riding a brand new Bianchi 928 carbon frame with a very little saddlebag. I knew then he was on a mission.

After a few miles I came upon Patrick and Chip, who had stopped to fix a flat. Patrick was getting the sign-in sheets from Chip that Tom gives to the faster riders to leave at contrôles so that he can keep track of rider progress. Rick was ahead. After the first climb I started riding with Bill.

By the time Bill and I got to the Northampton contrôle Rick was on his way out and Patrick too was about to leave. I rode with Bill until we met the climb on Blue Mountain Dr. From then on I rode alone along Lower Smith Gap Rd / Upper Smith Gap Rd and Cherry Valley until the second extended climb on Fox Gap. Along the way I made a few stops for fender adjustments and had two close calls while making turns on loose gravel that had been washed on the road. It was cloudy and humid. There was a light drizzle at times but I did not get rained on.

It was my second time up Fox Gap, the first being on the PA ACP 200K. I was feeling much better the first time around. After a painful ascent I was filled with joy when I saw volunteer Jim Logan who had set up a secret/revitalize contrôle. I had a refreshing can of Sprite and inquired about the status of Patrick and Rick, who were about 10min ahead of me. I decided not to push it, but go at my own pace and maybe I would get lucky.

I navigated familiar roads until the Gourmet Gallery contrôle in Blairstown, NJ. Once I crossed the Delaware River on the pedestrian bridge in Portland I recognized that the route was exactly the same as that of my first brevet, in November 2008. I also was happy to see the stone homes that caught my attention back then. As I pulled into the contrôle I saw Patrick outside and Rick enjoying some food and drink inside. This was my chance to ride with them, so I took care of my business as quick as possible. Rick was surprised that I would be riding with them, since I did not take a bathroom break at the contrôle. I am notorious for having a digestive system perfectly synchronized with contrôle stops.

Upon leaving Blairstown the terrain became once again hilly. We were now climbing Millbrook Rd and I was able to maintain a reasonable distance to Rick and Patrick. However, I was feeling a lot of pain and I wasn't sure whether it was from my Achilles or the tape itself. I didn't want to find out so I just kept on going. Once we were over the top of the climb there was a steep descent I did not exploit well because of bad road conditions. Then there was the right turn on Old Mine Rd and the dreaded steepness of that climb. If I have any fortes as a cyclist, climbing has traditionally been one, but this time around I didn't feel it at all. Rick and Patrick distanced themselves and a few miles down the road I caught up again. But I was working harder than I wanted to, so I decided to ease off the pedals as I watched them pull away.

It was tempting to stop at the Layton Country Store. I had the most delicious of meals on a volunteer pre-ride of this year's PA ACP 300K with Rick. But I wasn't that hungry and since I was moving ever so slower I decided not to stop. Above, the sky was clearing. I like sunny days, but I know that with the sun comes the implacable heat. Tom had mentioned something about a Raymondskill climb. I looked at my cue sheet while I was on Rt 209 and sure enough the next cue read "L Raymondskill Falls." It was the type of climb I like, twisty and steep. But my legs were not cooperating. My lowest gear is a 39x25 and my cranks are 175 mm, so my cadence plummeted. The pain I was feeling didn't help either. One stroke after the other I slowly moved along. Then I saw Jim again! He had setup another revitalize/secret contrôle. I had more soda, filled my water bottles and chatted a while with Rick and Patrick who were there too. We left the contrôle and almost instantly I was dropped. The climb continued for a while and was followed by rolling terrain. Along this section I made two navigational mistakes that may be related to the excruciating heat.

What a relief to arrive at the Barryville, NY contrôle. I was in dire need of real food. Rick and Patrick were still there and I ran into the store, ordered a 12" Mambo Sub and got a Sprite along with chocolate milk for dessert. Rick and Patrick went ahead to an Italian restaurant for food. Soon I was joined by Bill and Chip and from then on we would ride the rest of the brevet in "fléche style." 12 inches of sub were too much for me, so I shared with Bill. The contrôle didn't have a real bathroom, just a porter-potty. It was like an oven inside! I roasted for a few minutes and got ready to hit the road.

For the first few miles I wasn't feeling so great. I couldn't keep up with Chip and Bill, so I mostly rode a few hundred yards back. As I began to feel better, I made the effort to close the gap and stuck to Bill's wheel. If you have met Bill, that's the best place to be on any flat section. I was feeling so good I even took a pull as were catching up to Rick ahead. We had just passed Patrick, who had stopped for a nature break. Rick was happy to see us, but then maybe not so much. I heard the words "the fun is over" and he was gone. Further down the road, Patrick joined us for a while eventually pulling away as well.

Above there was a storm brewing. I wondered how long it would take before we were poured on. The rain started to fall copiously. Lightning was striking and I actually was liking it. My only concern was my Brooks saddle. I did not want it to get wet. Then I felt something hitting me. Rain isn't supposed to hurt. Thumps on my helmet. Hail. It was time to seek shelter. We sought a house that looked uninhabited and rolled in to be greeted by the owner. He was friendly and didn't mind us loitering around while the storm passed. I put the seat cover on my saddle and changed my socks. We all put our reflective gear on. The storm passed and we were back on the road.

Ahead a construction site was blocking the road. We found a way through and after that I was dropped again. I needed to eat. After a quick stop to pull some food out of my saddlebag I resumed my lethargic pedaling. The next contrôle was in Carbondale, a town in a valley. I was on the other side. Rick had mentioned something about a brutal climb. This wasn't good. I made one more stop at a convenience store just before the climb began. Maybe some caffeine would help. It didn't. I never climbed so slowly in my life. At times my odometer read 2.1 mph and I didn't tip over. Would this be the first time I would have to walk up a climb? I refused to give in but my legs had nothing left. Diapers on the road. What the heck? All I need now is baby poop on my tires. Yes, eventually I made it over the top and I didn't walk. It was time for Dunkin Donuts.

In Carbondale I joined Bill and Chip who were about 10 min ahead of me. I enjoyed a flatbread sandwich along with a vanilla latte. All was good. We were pretty wet still and Chip was shivering. I told him to use the hand dryer in the bathroom to dry up. I did the same. We had ridden 175 miles and 34 were left to the sleepover contrôle in Hallstead. There was just one problem. We had to climb out of Carbondale.

Again I was dropped when we left Carbondale. I was feeling slightly better, but still miserable. The next 34 miles were uneventful. Of course there was climbing, steep rollers and just a bit of flat. I did have a puncture, a "flat break," that I thoroughly enjoyed. It was dark at 9:30pm when I rolled into the Hallstead contrôle. Chip and Bill had arrived at 9:04pm. Rick and Patrick got in at 8:11pm. I spoke shortly with Rick, who was already changed and ready to go for the next day. He sleeps in the cycling shorts he'll use the next day. Rick is nuts.

I was so happy to be there it's hard to describe. Jim was once again working for our comfort. There was plenty of food awaiting us, but I had set my mind on a Double Whopper when I saw a Burger King outside. Unfortunately they did not allow me to walk-thru the drive-thru, so I asked Jim if he wouldn't mind. In 10 minutes I was savoring a delicious Whopper along with crispy french fries. Oh, did that feel good. Jud had also arrived and he too got a burger, a Whopper Junior. Afterward I wondered whether I would be allowed to make an order had I ridden my bike instead of walking. A bicycle is a vehicle as far as I understand. I agreed to leave with Bill and Chip at 2:30am. I got in my room and the first thing I did was take off the tape from my ankles. What a relief! I wished I didn't have hair on my legs. Boy did that hurt. To my surprise my Achilles wasn't in pain at all. It was the tape that was causing all this pain. But I was convinced that I should keep my ankles taped just in case. Time to sleep.

Day 2

After three hours of sleep I was up, taped, and ready to go. It was 2:30am. I have difficulty eating right away, so I was very happy to just have a glass of chocolate milk. I think my stomach wasn't done with the Whopper from the night before. I joined Bill and Chip and off we went.

Finally some flat terrain! I couldn't believe it. Every mile I wondered how long it would last. So far I was feeling good. Certainly the best since the ride started. We cruised through downtown Binghamton NY sometime around 4am. There were lots of people on the streets, drunk young people mostly. I gather they were on there way home from after-parties. I didn't mind it as long as nobody bothered me. We even had some people cheer us on. On one occasion I heard "Look! Bicycles! I love bicycles!." To that tune we left Binghamton and continued a long stretch of 57.6 miles before we reached the next contrôle, a post-office in Sayre, PA. However, just before we getting there we made a stop at a convenience store for breakfast. Patrick had passed us about half a mile earlier. While we were having breakfast John joined us as well. My choice of breakfast was egg and cheese on an English muffin along with chocolate milk. Delicious.

Once we left our post cards at the contrôle a roller-section began, first along the Susquehanna River until we reached Towanda. There Chip decided to stop for wake-up food and to use the bathroom. We continued at a leisurely pace along the many rollers of Southside Rd. This part of the route is also featured in a very hilly century, the Tour de Shunk. Bill was pointing out the little skunks that they paint on the road to mark the route. Apparently one has to follow the skunk tail. They were pretty cute. It didn't take long before Chip rejoined us, revitalized and moving fast.

The sky up to this point was overcast, but I began seeing patches of blue and the temperature started to rise. It was 10:30am when we signed in the Acorn Market contrôle in Canton. This town is apparently in the middle of nowhere. I tried to call my wife Grazie with no result. I was craving some sort of hot sandwich. Once I got in I didn't see that option (indeed it was there), but the sight of a slice of pizza won me over. Another Sprite and vanilla milk for dessert. I didn't like the vanilla milk that much. I put on my arm coolers, sunscreen and sunglasses. That was a good decision. As we were getting ready to leave John showed up.

The next 80 miles were probably the toughest of the ride. The relentless heat along with the climbs and steep rollers made it very difficult. The rollers were the kind that you don't want to ride. Down but not enough momentum to go up. Work work work. Down and not enough to go up. Work work work. This pattern repeated itself for many miles. On the other hand, the views were spectacular. It kept my mind off the pain I was feeling with every pedal stroke. Along the way we went through Liberty just in time to avoid a road block for a parade. This was followed a few miles later by a very pleasant stretch in the Little Pine Creek State Park. We were often passed by a stream of motorcyclists with their loud rumbling motors. I couldn't help to think about how much sound they were missing because of the motors. I could hear the stream, the birds and the animals running for cover as we passed along. Just past Waterville we began a long 5 mile climb up to Haneyville. It was decided we would have lunch when we got to the top. On this climb I started slow and watched Chip and Bill pull away. I increased my cadence as the climb progressed. For the first time I was feeling good on one of the endless climbs. I passed Bill and now had Chip in sight. After a mile or so I caught up to Chip and we rode together for a few tenths of a mile. I didn't change my cadence, standing when it got steep and sitting otherwise. By the time I made it to the top I marked the time. After 2 min Chip arrived and Bill made it to the top 5 min later. I think that was the only time I actually finished a climb in front. I was ready for lunch at an inn we found right at the top. Bill and I had the "Flaming Foliage" chicken sandwich along with chips and soda. This ride was definitely turning out to be a great one. The views, the company and the well planned food stops were working for us.

We left Haneyville towards Lock Haven. Along the way there was a 2.5 mile downhill segment with a 9% grade. Just amazing fun. Arriving in Lock Haven we still had about 13 miles to the next contrôle in Lamar. Now we didn't have any more shade. I was very tired by the time we reached Lamar, consumed by the thought of a nice bed and rest. But we still had 46.4 miles to go before the sleepover contrôle in Lewisburg. In Lamar I had a Klondike bar, chocolate milk, Sprite and peanut M&M's. It was scorching. Once again, as we were about to leave John arrived. He was always riding pretty close to us. We offered to wait but he insisted we kept on going.

Upon leaving the contrôle in Lamar we made a right turn on Heltman Rd that offered the most breathtaking view. The road seemed to go straight into the ridge and on both sides an abundance of farmland and green was seen. Except for the ridge part, I was very happy. My concern was unjustified. The climb on Long Run Rd wasn't too bad, as explained by Chip, who arrived at that conclusion upon observing horse dung on the road. If a horse can pull a carriage up the climb, it can't be too difficult. But then I inquired, "Have you seen the horse?" He was right. However, after another descent we still had a ridge to our left. The cue sheet said turn left. As we began to climb a group of people that were enjoying the late afternoon sun in their yard said to us "you've got a tough one ahead." Bill said not to trust non-cyclists, either way. But they were right. It was tough. I stuck with Chip for most of the way, but had to let go at the end. At the top I devoured a pack of peanut M&Ms in less than 10 s. Bill joined us a few minutes later. He mentioned a comment he had heard about a long descent into Lewisburg. It was so true. A 23 mile descent. What a treat after so many climbs. We were cruising in a paceline down to Lewisburg where we arrived at 9:30pm. Volunteers Ron and Barbara Anderson were waiting for us with lots of pizza and other yummy food. The room at the Country Inn was spectacular. A nice big bed, air conditioning, big bathroom. All I needed to feel good about the 227.5 miles we had ridden during the day.

I found out Rick had arrived at 7pm and would leave at 11pm. Nope, that was not going to happen for me. We would wake up muuuch later, at 2am. Before I went to sleep I had to take the tape off my ankles. That is when I realized why I had been in so much pain. My legs were swollen and the tight tape was making them look like a sausage. Removing the tape was a very painful process. Next time I do tape anything I'll make sure to shave wherever the tape goes. Blood was coming out of my pores after I removed the tape. Then I noticed huge blisters around my ankles. This was not fun. The next morning I decided to take the risk and ride without the tape supporting my Achilles.

Day 3

On the menu 186.9 miles and the promise of more moderate terrain. Our first climb of the day came early and I was once again dropped. My legs were now very stiff and I had no reason to push it. As the sun was rising above the horizon I found myself in a pretty desolate area. You can interpret the pretty in two ways and both will be accurate. I came upon an interesting scene when on the right there was a cow mooing and running around with a bunch of other cows chasing. On the left a few chained dogs barking like crazy. I never had seen cows running around like that. I'm glad the dogs were chained because they probably would have eaten me alive and I would not have been able to do anything about it.

To my surprise I caught up with Bill and Chip just before the extended climb of the day. They were on the lookout for a place to have breakfast. We began climbing and for once I wasn't feeling so bad. My legs were still sore and stiff, but at least I didn't feel all the pain the tape had caused. My right Achilles was doing fine and I was very happy about that. However, the left Achilles started to act up a bit. According to the cue sheet we would cross railroad tracks in 3.3 miles. I told Bill and Chip that meant we would go up and over in 3.3 miles. Have you seen railroad tracks on the top of a climb? I was partially wrong. 3.3 miles wasn't the top. It continued. But fortunately not very longer than that. On the way up we were passed by Patrick, who passed on our offer to join us for breakfast. We found the perfect place for that in Good Spring, a place called Rachel's Country Kitchen. I had a Mountaineer's breakfast, with three pancakes, toast, scrambled eggs, bacon strips and hash browns. I didn't eat all of it, but I ate a lot. It was delicious. Man did that go down well. For once it was nice to have real pancakes, not the mix you buy at the grocery. While we were in Rachel's Country Kitchen John must have passed by because we caught up with him some miles down the road.

We still had about 23 miles to go until the first contrôle of the day in Jonestown. Along this section I once again got dropped on the rollers and worked hard to catch up to John first and then Chip and Bill. In Jonestown I finally made a call to Grazie but she wasn't home. Oh well, I didn't worry because Tom was posting updates on rider progress on the web site. John left with us and we rode together through Amish country for about 20 miles before he had to fall behind because of a spike in his blood sugar level. This was familiar territory, as they are featured in many of Tom's brevets. Along the way we passed Amish girls and boys on bicycles and also the childhood home of Floyd Landis. His parents still live in the home.

We arrived in the New Holland Sheetz contrôle close to 1pm. I was hungry for a change. I had a Cuban flatbread sandwich, Sprite and a creamy orange smoothie with whip cream. Oh, the pleasures of cycling. I know I can eat all that and still be in a calorie deficit. Chip took my lead and also had a creamy orange smoothie. While we were at the contrôle John caught up with us. He didn't want us to wait for him so we clipped in and started our leg to the next contrôle, 35.9 miles away. Fortunately the way back to the hostel was not the same featured on the 600K, which involved a lot of steep climbing. This time Tom took it easy and decided to give us rollers instead. Again I was dropped. Again I caught up close to the next contrôle.

We arrived at the WaWa in Spring City at about 4:30pm. I was exhausted. Once inside the contrôle I entered what I call "squirrel mode," meaning that I look nervous like a squirrel, brevet card signed, running to the bathroom, then getting food, eating, cue sheet for next section, bike check, eat. I sat down outside the WaWa and getting up proved to be very difficult.

The last 34 miles of the ride were probably among the most painful. Not because the terrain was challenging, but because Chip scented the barn. He said he was feeling good and hammered. I was hanging on for my dear life behind Bill. At one point we were approaching a traffic light that was red. I thought "thank God," but then it turned green! Both Bill and I exclaimed "shit" at the same time. We both burst into laughter. I was laughing but still had to keep up with the Chip Adams express. It was probably one of the funniest moments of the ride. The misery of that last stretch was only matched by the relief of making it to the finish, 63h15min and 1000 km later.

At the hostel we were greeted by Bill Olsen, who seemed as excited as us about the arrival. He was volunteering on this ride since next week he'll be riding yet another 1200K, the Gold Rush Randonée. I showered quickly, joined the others downstairs for some chat. Patrick was on his way out, having arrived at 61h37min of riding time and Rick was long gone. He arrived just before 2pm, breaking his own record by almost an hour at 57h57min of riding time, and was getting rest to attend a wine dinner with his wife. John came in at 64h32min of riding time. I hung in the hostel common room until Jud showed up at 67h29min of riding time. It was past 10pm and I was starting to shut down. During the night the last rider, George, arrived at 71h10min. He had an epic ride, making an intermediate contrôle by only 2 min.

The next morning I slowly gathered my stuff and drove home. On the way a stop for another smoothie. But wait, now I was driving. Better think twice next time.